


If you need us...

by ChestnutBrumby



Series: Sweet Dreams - Scarlet Vision ficlets [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Astral Plane, Bucky being brave, CB loves Sam and Bucky so much, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Don't say I didn't warn you, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Post CACW, Rescue Mission, Sam feeling guilty, So much angst, Steve being Steve, Vision is honest and sweet, right in the feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChestnutBrumby/pseuds/ChestnutBrumby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has found out where his teammates are being held. There's really only one logical conclusion, and dare be the one standing in between Captain America and his friends... </p><p>Vision and Wanda centric for the most part but Steve's pretty pivotal as well. </p><p>Spoilers for Captain America: Civil War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Wanda's nightmares returned as she dozed in her straitjacket, shock collar digging into her neck. She dreaded going to sleep. It was hard to fight in the monotony of the cell. The drugs in her system kept her passive, as the jailers intended. As much as she struggled to stay awake, her body still required sleep to function. Eventually, she would succumb.  
  
Pietro died in front of her, while she screamed.  
Ultron destroyed her country, crushing people, wreaking chaos.  
She forced Vision under molten lava, smelt metal and flesh burning, heard him cry her name.  
She fought demons, horrible twisted senseless creatures that resembled Bosch paintings, while they tore at her flesh and chewed off her fingers.  
  
  
She had no idea how much time had passed when she snapped and lost her temper, desperate to feel the reassuring warmth of her powers flowing from her hands, to feel capable again, to feel in control. She threw herself against the side of her cell, struggled to rip free, and was shocked violently by the collar. Still she fought, got up and tried again, but the voltage only climbed until the molten pain lanced through every vein and she collapsed to the floor, and still, and still she twisted and fought her straitjacket, her struggles growing weaker, and the electricity kept getting worse and worse, a blinding pain in her head as it warred with her powers.  
  
At length she stilled. A thin trickle of blood seeped from between her lips.  
  
As she lay in unconscious, her body functions slowed, her brain and organs requiring less oxygen, her nervous system overloaded from the shocks and completely motionless. With no other tasks to occupy it, her body began to break down the day's dose of drug. Her mind slowly clicked back into its normal patterns, though her eyes remained closed and her breathing alarmingly shallow. At length, the drug was purged from her veins. Like a bird seeking a migration route, Wanda's telepathy formulated, then began to skim outwards, as if no longer connected to her body at all. There were familiar minds nearby, minds hers glanced over briefly. It was almost two in the morning, and these minds were dreaming.  
  
...Clint with his children, the shining surface of a lake, Laura smiling. Sam, flying, flying. Scott, fragments of a world that made no sense to her perspective. Still her mind sought further and further.  
  
Searching. Past security guards, whose minds she had no interest in engaging with. Past captains and sailors in ships and submarines, pilots flying above it all, islands flashing by, mainland... searching. 

Her thoughts recognized his the instant they drew near, latching on to an old connection eagerly.

  
_Wanda?! Wanda, what's wrong_?  
Wanda couldn't usually speak in her nightmares, her powers had been sapped for so long, and the familiar voice repeated itself several times with increasing alarm before she thought to try her abilities.  
_Go away, Vision. I hate hurting you._  
_Wanda, are you able to receive my thoughts?_  
_They're my worst nightmares, you know. I hate them._  
_Wanda, can you tell me what's wrong?_  
_Everything, Vis. Everything's wrong. I can't see. I can't figure out if that's better or worse._  
_Are you injured?_  
_They shocked me. It got stronger and stronger. I wonder how seriously? I wonder if I'd know if I were dying._  
_WANDA!_  
_Don't shout, Vis. Pietro... he'll be waiting for me._  
_Hold on Wanda, you're going to be fine. I'm coming for you._  
_I'll only hurt you. I hurt you, and everyone else. I can tell you because this isn't real, but you're the most important... person... in my... whole... Vision..._

_Wanda? Wanda??_

_Wanda!_


	2. Chapter 2

Vision disliked the silence of the Avengers facility. When their team had been together there was always _sound_.

Sam Wilson gathering everybody for a movie night. Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff conducting a training session. Wilson and Rhodes, engaged in one of their endless friendly conflicts, such as arm-wrestling or playstation games. Clint Barton bringing his kids around. Wanda's laughter as she held cooing baby Nathanial in her arms, the image creating odd, hollow pangs within Vision as he watched them.   
  
Now it was always quiet.   
    
He had avoided Wanda's room for weeks. He didn't know why he'd come here tonight, phasing through the wall as if he expected her to be sitting on her bed, scolding him for not using the door.   
  
She had a photoboard over her desk. It contained the few photos of Pietro she'd been able to save, the many-times folded family photo he had once carried, and various scenic photos Wanda herself had taken, birds and animals and landscapes. She added to it and rearranged it constantly, and Vision used to study the emotional patterns she created, admiring her artistic eye.  
  
There was a photo at the top left he'd never seen before, a photo of Wanda and himself. They were on the couch, her on the seat and him perched on the arm, Wanda with a closed book resting on her knee, her body curved slightly towards him. He was looking down at her with absolute attention, and she was smiling up at him. He recalled the timing perfectly, of course - he'd been asking her to explain a joke of Sam's, and she'd closed her book willingly and it lay forgotten on her knee as they discussed humour for over an hour.   
  
He hadn't been aware anybody had taken their photo. The resolution and formatting indicated that it had been taken by smartphone, a samsung galaxy S7 to be precise, and both Natasha, Sam and Steve owned this model. Had one of them given Wanda the photo? Had she seen it and asked for a copy? His swallowed unnecessarily, and slowly he reached out, removing the photo from the board and cradling it carefully in his hands.         
   
He missed her, with such a sharp, stinging clarity he wondered if this was what it was like to feel physical pain. He gravitated towards the wide windows and stared out at the night sky until he was feeling more level-headed. Eventually he sat down on the foot of her bed, still staring out the window, registering nothing, seeing only large green eyes and a beautiful wide smile.    
  
When he felt her enter his mind, it was as clear as all the times she'd connected with him before the war. All the rich warmth of her psyche sliding in around all the logical files within his head was so familiar, so cherished, he was certain he'd conjured it up from one of his many memories of her.   
  
Then he felt her pain. He doubled over, hands weakly grasping at his skin, his stomach, shoulders then his head, trying to locate the source of the agony. Nothing had ever broken his crimson skin, nothing had ever given him a reference point. But feeling it, he understood at once; this was real. She'd been strong enough to find him.   
  
_Wanda?! Wanda, what's wrong?_ He could still feel the connection, but she didn't respond. He tried again, then a third time with more desperation.  
  
 _Go away, Vision. I hate hurting you._

  
He was so relieved to get any sort of reply he nearly keeled over. _Wanda, are you able to receive my thoughts?_  
 _They're my worst nightmares, you know. I hate them._

  
Of course, she was having nightmares again. Guilt seized him, but worry over her condition and the terrible pain he still sensed from her remained.    

  
 _Wanda, can you tell me what's wrong?_ He had to know if she was all right, even though deep in his heart he knew the answer.

  
_Everything, Vis. Everything's wrong. I can't see you. I can't figure out if that's better or worse._

  
He could tell how incoherent her base thoughts were, almost as if she were having a nightmare, her emotions flickering erratically, almost too quickly to follow. Why, though?   
  
_Are you injured?_   
Please say no...  

  
_They shocked me. It got stronger and stronger. I wonder how seriously? I wonder if I'd know if I were dying._

  
Hearing her speculate if she was dying tore Vision's final thread of control.  

 _"WANDA"!_ He bellowed, frantic, her name escaping him verbally as well as mentally. He sank through the bed before he caught himself and increased his density, doing so far too violently, so his feel slammed into the floor hard enough to leave dents.

  
 _Don't shout, Vis. Pietro... he'll be waiting for me._ There was a fading, distant quality to Wanda now, that frightened Vision more than anything ever had in his short life. She could be dying. His Wanda, dying, incomprehensible, a world without her. He experienced the panic only for a second before his resolve steeled. He had to get to her, and he had to go right now.  

  
_Hold on Wanda, you're going to be fine. I'm coming for you._

  
He was in motion before he'd finished. Straight through the walls, the mindstone casting a faint golden glow into the night.

  
_I'll only hurt you. I hurt you, and everyone else. I can tell you because this isn't real, but you're the most important... person... in my... whole... Vision..._

  
Her last thoughts trailed off. Vision kept calling for her as he flew, but no matter how many times he called her name, she didn't respond.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve drew in a sharp breath as the cryogenic tube retracted, letting the warmth of the African jungle wash over his best friend. After a moment, Bucky's eyes flickered, then opened.   
  
Steve didn't know what he'd been worrying about - Bucky rampaging through Wakanda, stuck in a nightmare of brainwashing? - but once he saw the recognition and relief in Bucky's eyes, he relaxed.

  
The man looking back at him was _his_ Bucky.   
  
"Buck." He greeted, reaching out a hand as his friend stumbled from the tube. Bucky caught Steve's forearm to steady himself, blinking rapidly. Then he flashed a quick, too-serious, but still genuine smile. "Hey Steve."   
   
It was the first of Bucky's wake cycles, which the Wakandan doctors had advised were good practice to check on Bucky's vitals and allow his body to behave as the human body should. A doctor, a gifted young woman just out of school, unobtrusively took Bucky's temperature, a blood sample, checked on the patch over the remnant of his metal arm then made herself scarce. Steve filled Bucky in on the happenings around Wakanda. Bucky didn't venture many comments, but his slate-blue eyes were thoughtful as they rested on Steve as they talked.   
  
"So when are you going to tell me what's really up?" He asked at length, as the cryo-tube was being prepped to load Bucky back into. Steve started in surprise, then grinned ruefully. "Didn't know I was so transparent."   
  
"Only to me." Bucky replied with a small snort. "Fill me in properly."   
  
"I'm going to rescue to others. Sam, Clint, Wanda, Scott - I've found out where they're being held. I'm going to get them out - I leave in an hour. T'challa's prepping one of his jets for me now."   
  
Bucky was quiet for a long minute. Then he lifted his hand to halt the two techs prepping his frozen mattress. "I won't be needing that until we get back." He informed the technicians, who bowed their heads obligingly and began reversing their preparations.   
  
"You want to come?" Steve asked, a smile already tugging at his lips. Just like old times. "You don't think I can do it alone?"  
Bucky shook his head. "If there's one thing I can remember, it's that Steve Rogers doesn't know how to fail." He reached his hand out. Waited. Steve smiled warmly, and caught the offered hand. "Thanks, Buck. It's good to have you watching my back again."   
  
"Who said anything about watching your back? I'm flying. Better pick your favourite backseat."   
  
"Okay." Steve laughed good-naturedly. "But you better let me give the directions. We have a stop to make first."

 

* * *

 

  
  
Natasha was none too happy about being woken up at three in the morning. "Coffee. Coffee" She mumbled, rummaging around the jet's oddly well-stocked galley. Seombody here had some serious funds, and she doubted it was either of the two fugitives. Once the pot had brewed and she sat down beside Steve with a warm cup in her hand, she was pleasantly surprised. "This is the best coffee I've ever had." She remarked. "Almost makes up for this ungodly hour you dragged me out of bed at. A girl needs her beauty sleep, you know."   
  
She pretended not to hear the snort from the cockpit.   
  
"So what's the plan?" Steve had handfuls of blueprints, printed reports, and oceanic maps. Steve handed a bundle to her. "We're going in during some scheduled maintenance. Twelve-crew team guarding the surface, including three in the water surrounding the Raft. I thought I'd leave them to you."   
  
"Afraid to get wet?"   
  
"You _are_ the better swimmer. I'll drop directly onto the surface of the Raft, and once I've knocked out the guards I'll use this to override the controls from the outside." He held up a gift from Scott's girlfriend Hope, a simple, unadorned usb port, which he'd sealed into a small watertight bag. Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Find some friends in high places, Rogers?"   
  
"High enough. I trust it'll work."   
  
"Well, I trust you, so that's enough for me. How are you going to deal with the guards inside?"   
  
"This gives me control of the knockout gas in case of riots. I'll release it in all the main corridors, that only leaves the guards stationed directly around the cell area, and there's only fifteen of them."   
     
"Hardly seems fair."   
  
"We haven't done it yet."   
  
It was Bucky who finished the conversation, locking the plane into a hover and joining them. "We will." He spoke with complete certainty, tone unwavering.   
  
The next instant there was a strange golden glow to the floor in front of them, and a figure rose from the floor into the cabin. Bucky let out a shout of alarm and threw himself in between the new arrival and Steve and Natasha, single first coming up with amazing speed.   
  
"Vision!?" Steve and Natasha spoke in the same instant, his voice startled, hers questioning. Bucky slowly lowered himself off the balls of his feet, recognition flickering over his face. Then he scowled, fist remaining clenched. "You were on Stark's side." He accused, narrowing his eyes.   
  
"Did you fly all the way here?" Steve frowned, stepping up beside his best friend to examine the android. Vision's jaw seemed clenched a little more tightly than usual for him, but he looked otherwise unharmed.   
  
"Is everything okay at the compound? With Clint's family?" Natasha asked him uncertainly, though she was sure she wasn't on the right track. She'd checked on Laura an the kids when she first left the Avengers compound to explain the full story to her and leave her a secure emergency contact line.   
  
Vision ignored both the accusation and the questions. He took a step forward, not reacting to Bucky's clear increase of tension. "Captain Rogers, you are about to break into the Raft and free our teammates."   
  
Bucky rocked back, ready to launch himself at Vision, but Natasha hadn't missed the use of 'our' and caught his arm just before he sprang. " _Wait_." She murmured in an undertone. She was getting and inkling where this was going. Bucky stayed tense for another few seconds before he settled, but Natasha knew he would explode into action if it was required.   
  
"Are you here to stop us?" Steve's chin came up slightly.   
  
"Quite the opposite, Captain. I'm here to join you."


	4. Chapter 4

Sam didn't get a lot of sleep. He was envious of Scott, who seemed to actually take advantage of having absolutely nothing on his to-do list to get ten hours of sleep every night. Plus a nap in the afternoons, most days. He worried about Wanda, who'd long since ceased to attempt to contact the team telepathically. He was worried about Clint, whose temper grew worse and worse each day. He'd shouted threats at the guards for twenty minutes until one of them had shocked him into silence.   
  
He worried about Steve, out there with the whole world after him, and though he hated to admit it, he worried about Bucky and what had become of the former Winter Soldier. Sam had dealt with a range of issues in soldiers after battles, but even he had a hard time wrapping his mind around what the guy must have gone through.   
  
He didn't have to _like_ him to worry.   
  
And so, it was Sam who was the first to hear the minute scrape, a boot against the grated floor, and turn. The Raft was nearly silent at night. The guards didn't patrol as late as four in the morning and so he smiled when he heard steps. Heavy ones.   
  
He walked to the front of his cell, a knowing smile already lighting up his face. Steve's familiar figure loomed form the darkness.   
  
Sam had never felt like hugging anyone more.   
  
"Now you're a sight for sore eyes." He laughed, and Steve spared a quick smile, his face otherwise composed, on point. "You too. Stand back - it's time for some fresh air."   
  
There was a resounding crash as Steve punched in the controls for Sam's cell. A moment later he gripped the bars, no longer electrified, and wrenched them aside. Sam stepped outside, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "Knew you'd come."   
  
"Sorry we took so long."   
  
Steve repeated the procedure for Scott's cell. Not quite the military professional Sam was, Scott caught Steve in a bear-hug the moment he rushed form the cell, babbling about how grateful he was and how he had no regrets and how good it was to see him again. Oh, and waving at Natasha across the room.   
  
Natasha had already extracted Clint from his cell, and both Clint and Sam had one thing on their minds. "Wanda." Clint made for her cell. "You won't be able to punch your way into this one." He continued grimly.   
  
"He's right." Sam agreed, a single step behind the archer. "Steve, something's wrong with her. She needs to get out of there, and it's got to happen right now."   
  
"Don't worry. Brought another friend. He's on it."   
 

* * *

 

  
There had been a hold-up on the outside, and Vision was not in a patient frame of mind. Hope Van Dyne had provided the overrides to the cameras, communications, and all the security features on board the Raft - that she'd known about. Unfortunately, she had been unaware of the lethal response turrets. Captain Rogers had taken two of them out, Bucky another two using the jet's sophisticated weapons, and a Vision destroyed the rest with blasts from the Mindstone. Nobody had been hurt, but it had served to delay them.   
  
Vision wasn't in much of a mood to tolerate delays.     
  
Once he'd aided Captain Rogers in clearing the deck of guards and knocking out those inside, he phased directly into Wanda's cell. He knew, despite her earlier fears, that she wasn't dead - he could feel the barest edge of a connection to her mind lingering, a tiny pinprick of light among the far greater brilliance of the conscious minds around them.   
  
She was alive, but she wasn't all right.    
  
Seeing her for the first time in a month tore at Vision's heart. She was collapsed on the floor of her cell, still bound by a straitjacket, dried blood seeping from her mouth. They'd never spent more than a few days apart in all of his life, and to find her in this sort of condition...   
  
"Wanda. Can you hear me?" Vision checked on her pulse and respiration and was relieved to find them, faint, but there. Her eyes remained closed, and he anxiously tried mentally.   
  
_Wanda._  
  
He got no response, and none to his second or third attempt. His frustration boiled up and he ripped away the shock collar, then the jacket, hoping that if her body understood it was safe now, she might awaken. She did not.   
  
Vision felt helpless. He paused to preform a full-body scan, checking for any broken bones, before he pulled her into his lap, whispering her name aloud and in her head, trying to call her back to him. Pressure built within him, as if something was constricting his heart, squeezing it more and more sharply. He didn't fight it, didn't shy away from the pain. He didn't respond to the anxious faces behind him, the questions of their teammates. He was unaware of Steve keeping Sam and Clint out of the cell, no small feat once they had caught glimpses of Wanda's condition.   
  
Vision had one purpose, one motivation, and it was the woman in his arms.   
  
He slowed his breathing to match hers, controlled the beat of his heart until it they were perfectly in sync. Darkness descended upon him when he put his forehead down, touching it to Wanda's, but he was unaware of the way the world blacked out around him. The Mindstone lit up, shining golden. The spectral glow grew and grew until it encompassed them both.   
  
_Wherever you're going Wanda, I will follow you._ He vowed, concentrating. He imagined that he could pour his own strength into her, that he could nourish her body with his own, would have willingly scarified every atom of energy he possessed for her.   
  
The world was darkness, but for the golden light between them, the faint light of her mind and the burning desire of his own.

 

* * *

 

  
  
"We have to do something." Clint was just about as agitated as Natasha could ever recall seeing him. She had her arm around his waist - part comfort, part restraint. Inaction was not a strength of Clint's. She could imagine his eagerness when Steve had called him, asking him to come out of retirement. He would have tried - for Laura, for the kids. But Clint had always needed a deeper purpose, a course of action, a hero's goal.   
  
He shared that with Wanda, Nat had noted shortly after the formation of the team. It was part of the reason the two of them got along so well.   
  
"Give him some time." She soothed. Clint tensed against her arm. "Time for what?! We don't know what he's doing!" He pointed out, frustration evident in his voice.   
  
Sam, thank goodness, had settled down and ceased fighting to get into Wanda's cell, taking his cues from Steve as he did so often. Natasha suspected it was all but subconscious now, the bond of trust and friendship between the two men ran so deep.   
  
"Vision can accomplish some pretty amazing things." Sam pointed out. "I've seen him in action." Steve nodded his agreement. "They're close friends, if anybody can reach her, he has the best shot."   
  
Nat wondered if she was going to need to have a Talk with Steve. 'Close friends' her left foot. Seriously, it was a toss-up to see who was more dense about matters of the heart, Clint or Steve. No wonder the Captain hadn't actually progressed to asking Sharon Carter on an actual date yet.     
  
Honestly, who could look at the way Vision cradled Wanda now, and not see it?     
  
Natasha _was_ a little worried though. She'd seen Wanda grow the past year - become somebody strong, confident, capable. She had imagined they'd break her out and she'd jump up, sparks flying, demanding retribution for what the prison had done to her. Destroy computers, send furious crimson energy flying. Seeing Wanda comatose... it wasn't exactly part of her theory.   
  
The golden glow that now completely surrounded her and Vision wasn't exactly comforting either. Not that Natasha thought that Vision would _hurt_ her, but she liked to understand things, and right now - she had no clue what was going on.

 

* * *

 

  
  
Vision was unaware of it all. He sensed a strange environment, all shade and lines, some perhaps resembling buildings, the faintest impression of a silent city. Above were stars, or what might have been stars - immobile, cold, the light wrong somehow, everything outlined in twilight hues, grey and slate blue as far as his eye could see. When he saw the flash of red so pale it was more pink, he latched on to it, moved towards it. _Wanda_! He called, desperation and hope warring.   
  
There was a pause so long he wanted to tear apart this strange world of shadows in his frustration. Then... _Vision_?   
  
_I'm here Wanda._ He could see her now - or at least what looked like her. Colours were muted, her face was pale and drawn, her already small figure seemed tiny.     
  
She looked up at him and he felt a sharp pang of relief. It was definitely Wanda - her eyes hadn't changed. She looked puzzled when she took him in. _Vision? How are you here?_  
  
He reached her, knelt, not surprised to see his own skin had dulled in colour. He nearly flinched when he laid a hand on her arm. She was deathly cold.   
  
_I came to find you. You can't possibly think I'd have left you here._ He was alarmed when her eyes filled with tears.   
  
_I can feel your mind. It's really you... you are here._ He was unprepared for her to launch herself at him, wrapping her shaking arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. _You're not dying are you? Are you okay?_ She asked, fear in her mental voice.   
  
_Nobody's dying, Wanda. You're still in the Raft, but not for long. Myself, Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff and Sergeant Barnes are all here. We've come to get you out._   
  
_I'm not sure I can go back._  
  
 _I won't leave you. We'll find our way, Wanda. Together._  
  


 

* * *

 

 

  
Steve's shoulders were set and his jaw clenched. "How long?"   
  
"A little short off an hour." Everyone was feeling the strain, especially since Vision seemed to be in some sort of trace and Wanda hadn't stirred. Clint had gone in to try and check their vitals, but the golden glow still surrounded the pair of them and Clint couldn't get his hand through. Now he paced back and forth, eyes narrowed dangerously.   
  
"How's it looking out there, Buck?" Steve spoke to their pilot via radio. Bucky's voice was tense as he replied. "Nothing on the horizon yet, but Steve - they can't be far. Can you move them?"   
  
Steve was saved from replying. The golden glow around Vision and Wanda expanded and flared up, causing everyone to shield their eyes. Then it faded, and in its wake Vision stood, Wanda nestled protectively in his arms. She blinked awake, looking over at the others, and tried for a smile that fell very short.   
  
Vision carried her out of the cell, Clint practically hanging on one of his shoulders, Sam looking over the other. "You okay, Kiddo?" Clint reached a hand towards her, but froze when Wanda flinched visibly, slowly retracting his arm. Sam caught his eye and shook his head slightly, even though he was plainly just as worried as Clint.   
  
"I'm all right." Wanda's voice was barely more than a croak. She frowned, swallowed, and tried again, still hoarse but a louder volume. "Really, I'm fine. Vis, I can walk, can you put me down?"   
  
Vision opened his mouth to protest, but Wanda touched her fingertips to his chin, such a brief touch none of the others could be sure they'd seen it right. "Vis, I want to walk. I haven't stood on my own two feet in weeks. Put me down."   
  
The last three words were so much firmer than her unsteady speech until that point that Vision complied, albeit reluctantly, setting her on her feet. He hovered close by while Wanda carefully got her balance. Her attempt at another smile when she looked up at the others was shaky, but recognizable this time. "I've never been so happy to see you guys."   
  
Clint looked like he was stopping himself form hugging her only with extreme effort. Steve smiled warmly at his teammate, relieved beyond measure - she was walking, scarred and bruised, but back on her feet. "Let's catch up once we're in the air. We've got a jet waiting."   
  
"Jet to where?" Sam tilted his head, and Steve shook his head minutely. "Later. Let's move." Sam though that was interesting as he fell back to act as rear guard. Steve trusted Natasha and Vision to help break them out, but he didn't necessarily trust them - or at least one of them -  with their location. Sam felt a sudden pang of sadness, thinking back on a year of training and missions led by Steve, when Nat and Vision were still part of their team. He missed them both - Nat's calm capability in any situation. Vision's endless questions, ranging from completely insightful to totally naive. He even missed Rhodey and their friendly rivalry.   
  
He wished they could by like that again.   
  
"Should've known." Sam grumbled when he saw Bucky turn from the pilot's seat. When he stood up though and Sam saw he was minus an arm his eyes widened fractionally. He used to work with a lot of differently-abled vets, and it wasn't the first time he'd seen somebody minus a major body part.   
  
He just hadn't expected that anybody would best the Winter Soldier in battle.   
  
"Good to see you too." Bucky snorted, shook his head, then punched Sam lightly (for him) on the shoulder. Sam's eyes hardened as he put it together. "Tony." He caught Bucky's good arm to stop him returning to the pilot's seat, staring at the empty space where Bucky's metal arm used to be. "Tony Stark did that. _He ripped your arm off_." Bucky shrugged with one shoulder then shook Sam's grip free. "Blasted it, actually." He corrected matter-of-factly, returning to the controls. Sam stayed where he was, obviously struggling with something - anger, if the way his jaw tensed was any indication.    
  
"Hey man." Clint called in greeting to Bucky, who nodded back. "You feel like sitting here?" Bucky gestured to the co-pilot's seat.  "Yeah why not." Clint shoved Sam as he headed to his seat. "Earth to Sam. This is your stewardess speaking, please be seated for takeoff."   
  
Sam obediently went to sit by Steve, taking the spare seat on his left side. Scott has claimed the right, and his head was tilted back at an uncomfortable angle against the headrest, already asleep. Sam barely noticed. Steve nudged him, worry in his eyes. "All right?" Sam's expression twisted into a brief scowl. "Explain later." He muttered, unsure now of exactly who he ought to trust.   
  
Or if they rest of them should have trusted _him_. He'd been the one to send Tony after Steve and Bucky. Sure, Tony had promised him he'd gone in friendship, but Tony liked to create killer robots in his spare time and used to make a living selling murder weapons. Sam should have known better to imagine _that_ was a promise worth keeping.    
  
Vision didn't concern himself with the others, knowing they were all capable of caring for themselves. Wanda remained the one he was worried for. Though she was walking of her own volition, her eyes darted about warily as she entered the jet. He caught a quick catalogue of entry and exit points, strengths and weaknesses, potential places an enemy could be lurking. He felt her extend her own powers, scanning the jet for potential hostiles before the effort overwhelmed her and she slumped into the seat furthest from the others, putting her head in her hands.   
  
"You are safe." He reassured her in a quiet tone, sitting beside her and placing his hand on her back. She flinched slightly at the touch, and he felt an inward flash of anger at himself at forgetting her nervousness, recalling the way she'd shied away from Clint. He went to pull back and was surprised when Wanda reached out and caught his hand. She didn't say anything, nor did she lift her head, and he felt her exhaustion, the effort it had cost her weakened body to use her powers.   
  
For all his resources, all his vast expanses of knowledge, he had no idea what to say to her. So they sat in silence, hands clasped tightly, until Wanda leaned into him, curled up against his shoulder and fell asleep.   
  
When she opened her eyes, Bucky was bringing in the jet for a landing. She felt Vision turn his head, the wordless question, and lifted her head from his shoulder.   
  
She'd forgotten how reassuringly warm he always was.   
  
"Better." She answered, sitting up, wincing at the stiffness in her neck and spine. "Where are we?"   
  
"We are making a short stop." Vision nodded at Clint and Natasha, standing by the entrance.   
  
"Now you'll make sure the house is secure?" Clint affirmed, and Natasha patted his arm. "They'll be fine, Clint. They're my family too, you know."   
  
"Nat's leaving?" Wanda didn't know why it surprised her so much. The days of their old team were over. Just because Natasha had helped them now, didn't mean it fixed everything, a thought that filled her with sadness. When she looked at Vision, she was surprised to catch threads of much sharper emotions than she usually picked up unraveling from him. The was sorrow, guilt, some residual flashes of anger, and no small measure of confusion. There was also a downcast set to his mouth, and that was what clued her in. She sat bolt upright. "You're leaving too."   
  
He turned his head away, obviously distressed. "Vision. Look at me."   
  
He did. It was awful looking into his familiar eyes and knowing he was planing to leave - she could see it there.   
  
"Why can't you come with us?" Wanda swallowed her tears. She would _not_ cry. She would not.   
  
"It's complicated." His eyes widened when she actually struck him, heedless of the way her tiny fist bounced off his arm. He was too surprised to phase. "Don't give me such a bullshit answer." She cursed. "Why did you even come for me?"   
  
He hesitated, disregarded his first answer, hastily coming up with a second. "You did not deserve to be there. It was wrong, what they did to you."   
  
"That's not an answer either. If that were all, you could have let Steve and Natasha come alone. You're going back to Stark?"   
  
"Wanda, please - there is much that needs to be accomplished." Vision explained gently. "The world still needs the Avengers, I do believe that. With most of you not permitted to function as before, now more than ever. Mr. Stark needs support, and not just for his team. It is a great struggle for him to accept his closest friend's injury, and though he rarely engages with me on a personal level, I have hopes that he will allow me to help him and Colonel Rhodes both. There are many trying to take advantage of the world since the war, and he is in no condition to handle matters on his own."   
  
She was silent through his explanation, and it caused him no end of hurt to feel her pulling back from him mentally as well as physically. She stood up, arms crossed, eyes hard. "Go, then."   
  
"Wan-"   
  
" **GO**!" She spat, letting the anger and frustration she'd felt over the past month boil up and focus itself on him. Vision slowly stood, took a final look at her, and moved with heavy feet and a heavier heart out the door.   
  
Wanda felt several sets of eyes - Steve, Sam, Bucky (Scott was still snoring) - on her at her outburst, but she didn't care.   
  
She couldn't believe that she'd been foolish enough to think he'd stay.   
  
She wished Natasha and Clint would hurry their goodbye. She could still see Vision standing a short distance from them, head bowed, cloak waving in the wind.   
  
"Wanda." Sam had edged closer to her. He didn't invade her personal space, standing just out of arms reach, and when she turned to him she was surprised to find he felt guilty about something, the emotion so strong it seeped into her mind without her seeking it out. She wondered briefly why Sam was shouldering such a heavy burden, but she had no interest in digging deeper to find out, knowing how likely she was to exhaust herself with the effort.  
  
"It might be a lot longer than a month before you get to see him again." Sam told her gently. "Is that how you want to leave it? I don't know where either of you went in that cell, but I know he would have kept following you. I could tell."   
  
The tears Wanda had tried so hard to hold back blurred her vision. Without trying, she saw in Sam's mind what he felt so guilty about. Dear, loyal, understanding Sam, who always saw the best in everybody. Who set himself up for heartache and betrayal time and time again because he'd rather risk that hurt than loose his faith in people.   
  
She could learn a thing or two from him.   
  
"Thank you, Sam." She whispered, then she ran, unsteady on her rusty muscles, out of the jet. Vision felt her presence approaching and turned, opening his mouth to say something, but she hit him like a whirlwind and hugged him fiercely, babbling how sorry she was over and over until his arms came around her and he shushed her, chin resting atop her head.   
  
"Don't be sorry, Wanda." He assured her, lips close to her ear. "I wish I could stay. I wish I could bring you back. Until we can be together again, I must keep working to right this world of ours."   
  
"I know. I understand." She clung to him for a timeless period, knowing how much she'd think about this goodbye, for however long they'd be parted. "But I'm going to miss you so much."   
  
"And I you."   
  
A throat cleared behind them. Natasha stood ready, a bag over one shoulder, smiling sadly. "It's time." Clint waited for Wanda, careful not to touch her after how she'd reacted earlier. She took a steadying breath, reminded her hair-trigger defense mechanism that Clint had been the one to take her under his wing, welcome her into his family, treat her like any normal person. She carefully tucked her arm through his, took a last look over her shoulder at Natasha and Vision, and went back inside the jet.   
  
As they took off, Wanda looked down once more. Natasha had already left - she was many things but far more practical than sentimental. She wasn't accompanying Vision back to the compound anyway, after turning on Team Stark at the airport. She had her own path to take.   
  
Vision was still standing where they'd parted. Although the jet rose swiftly, and even he couldn't possibly see her looking down from the window, she felt his mental voice clearly.    
  
 _Wanda, before - when you asked why I came for you. The truth is - I came because nobody has ever needed anyone the way I need you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Bonus post-credits scene. Hey, if Marvel can do it, so can I :D))
> 
> Wanda couldn't help but break down in tears this time. Clint asked her three times if she was injured before Sam cuffed the back of his head and made an exaggerated motion to the rapidly-vanishing land below and the android they'd left behind. 
> 
> Clint hesitantly touched her shoulder, and she collapsed against him, sobbing. Sam slowly leaned comfortingly against her side, then Steve approached and put his arms around them all. And finally Bucky, whose heart Wanda knew was not as hard as everyone else imagined, locked the controls into auto-pilot, very cautiously walked over, and once he was sure he wouldn't be blasted by an errant hex, added his single arm to the group hug. 
> 
> "Should we wake him up?" Sam asked with an innocent nod at Scott, still snoring in his chair. Wanda laughed through her tears, her aching heart already feeling the tiniest bit better. 
> 
> Being without Vision would only be bearable, she knew, as long as she stayed with this seriously messed-up version of a family.


End file.
